


Care to Peter

by nicedragon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Caretaking, Established Relationship, Flirting, Humor, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 04:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7493232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicedragon/pseuds/nicedragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is highly needy while incapacitated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Care to Peter

**Author's Note:**

> Using 'Peter' instead of 'Pietro' for xmen verse quicksilver. I had just gotten back from seeing xmen apocalypse when I wrote this. I fell in love///
> 
> Reader has breasts and a vulva. Reader pronouns: none- because it's written entirely in second person.

Peter had gotten injured and then while he was injured he'd become sick and started to run a fever. He was delirious and mostly confined to bed. It was your first time seeing him sick in such a way. You found that he was whiny and huffy when sick. The majority of the time he slept but when he woke up, after stumbling to the bathroom, he always whined for you. You tried to get him to eat meals in the time frame after he'd used the bathroom. It was easier than trying to get him to wake up and sit up in bed.

He was a pain but you were also worried for him. The doctor had said he'd heal right up with bedrest and that the fever would pass, but you didn't like seeing Peter so frail. Even if he was still his one-part-annoying one-part-cute self when he was conscious.

Near the end of the week he noticeably got better. He was conscious for longer bouts of time and was eating better. It was during one of those times after meals that Peter noticed something. 

He looked at his hands blinking and examining them, and you wondered what he was doing but then remembered. You'd painted his nails while he was out of it and you were bored out of your mind.

You half expected him to put on a show of being pouty but instead he got a sappy smile on his face. Turning to you, he said, “Look!” With the excitement of a child he turned the backs of his hands toward you showing you the nails you'd painted while he was half asleep. 

They were solid in color but his middle fingers had a red heart painted in the middle. 

He grinned wobbly, still weak, turning his nails back toward himself, looking at the hearts. He smirked the best he could while still looking frail and touched. 

“I think you like me.” He said both accusingly and flirtatiously.

You laughed. You couldn't help it. He was so weak from his fever and injury. His bravado and cockiness came off as more adorable than usual given the circumstances. 

“You're cute.” you sighed warmly. You weren't usually so openly adoring. It was difficult for you, and even then you averted your eyes for a moment. You were smiling widely all the while though.

“Y/n,” Peter called to you. He made grabby hands at you and put on his best puppy dog face. He didn't have to try very hard.

“C'mere you.” you said, but you were the one going to him. You were flooded internally with warmth in an affectionate mood. Peter could tell and he was willing to take full advantage to get as much loving as possible out of you. You loved that about him too; how much he wanted your attention and loving. 

You fumbled onto the bed next to him and gently wrapped your arms around his middle. You laid your head on his shoulder. He rubbed his face against the top of your head.

“You smell good.” He murmured into your hair.

“You just haven't bathed.”

It was true. Peter's hair was greasy at the roots and stringy. As for his face and body, you wiped down his exposed skin with a wet wash cloth throughout his time confined to bed, but his hair went unattended from you. You kind of didn't want to be the one to brush it out after all this time.

Peter jostled you to smell at his own shoulder. He let out a long 'ehh' of deliberation. You like when he does that. Even when it's annoying, you like it a little then too. He just comes off as so sweet and clueless with his noises. 

“Y/n...” He ran a hand up and down your side. 

“Mm?”

“How long have I been,” he waves a hand noncommittally, “incapacitated?”

“About a week”

“Oh.”

He started to shift, testing his limbs more

“You're not allowed to strain yourself.” You warned him. 

He raised an eyebrow.

“I'm hardly moving.”

“Too much. Try not too.”

He frowned but settled down. He continued to run a hand along your side. It was nice. You cuddled like this for awhile before he spoke again. 

“...does that mean we can't fuck?”

Eloquent. You gave him a non-impressed look to cover some of your reflexive embarrassment. When he spoke so bluntly it made your face go hot for a couple of different reasons.

“You might open up your stitches.” You explained, dragging a finger lightly down his shirt. “You need to wait until you recover more before... you do anything strenuous.” 

You winced at your own involuntary word choice. You were expecting some flirtatious remark on your choice of the word 'strenuous.' What you got though was an unhappy groan from Peter next to you.

“It's not so bad.” You tried to reassure him. You told him he'd be up in no time. When he didn't answer you reached for his hand. You brought it to your lips and kissed it before starting to murmur. You spoke quietly but loud enough for Peter to hear. You murmured about how much you cared about him and how you know not moving is frustrating, especially for him. 

You cleared your throat and spoke a little louder. 

“I know you heal fast, but the doctor said to wait until your checkup. They said if your wound opened up or got aggravated or something that you could die.”

You were cringing at that last part. You didn't believe it'd happen with how fast Peter had been known to heal up, but it was the thought that counted. 

It took all of a second before Peter looked up at the ceiling and snickered, startling you. He grinned cheekily at you. 

“What a way to die, don't you think? With you? I can't think of a better way to go.” He wagged his eyebrows at you. “Granted, I can't think very well right now. Head's fuzzy...” He spoke to himself. 

You guffawed loudly making Peter wince since you were right next to his ear. He was still thinking about sex.

After that he asked again if you could have sex only to get denied. He suggested a list of less intensive 'activities' to have all of it denied one by one. Through the exchange you'd started to sweat through how hot you became. 

“Can you wait for your checkup Friday?” You asked him. You were almost certain the doctor would clear him for good health by then.

He pulled a face. You tried a different tactic. You pulled yourself up further next to him and leaned into his ear. You cupped his cheek and spoke in the sweetest voice you could muster. “Can you be a good boy and wait? For me?” You thought you sounded silly but Peter groaned almost immediately and closed his eyes. 

“Why do you do this to me.” He said pained. 

You knew you'd won then.

Two days and a check up later you agreed to have very careful sex with Peter. He was whimpery and begging as soon as he got physical attention. He actually sobbed and came quickly with a handjob. He was panting and still trying to be good, laying flat on the bed without moving much. 

You kissed him while he was still catching his breath from his orgasm. He made a noise against your mouth. When you pulled away he was flushed and embarrassed.

“I d-didn't mean to...” He trailed off. 

You kissed him again. “It's okay.” You said. “Let me take care of you a little more.” You rested a hand on his cheek. Your other hand was still slick with the lube you'd poured on to jerk him off. You use that hand to grab tissues off the bedside table and wipe off his stomach.

For awhile you just stroked at Peter's body as his breathing relaxed. You could also observe Peter's eyes close and his breathing gradually deepen as he became aroused again. 

You heard the springs creak and you moved in a flash, stopping peter from sitting up. You actually glared. 

“Stay still.”

He flopped back down. “Yes, nurse.” he said seriously.

You moved to straddle him. You moved so slowly, Peter trembled underneath you. You reached down and lined yourselves up. When the tip of him gently sunk inside you, a 'yes' left his throat with conviction. He sucked in a breath and began to repeat it as you sank down slowly onto him. You felt satisfied in a way that was hard to describe. It felt good to do this together again. 

“Oh. Oh, god. _Hurry._ ” Peter urged you. 

You had all your weight on your legs folded next to Peter's sides. Usually, when you rode him, you'd haphazardly slap your whole weight down on him. It brought you a kind of pleasure to pin his tall lean frame by sitting on him and have him moan about it. 

But now you couldn't do that. You had to be careful. You had to keep reminding yourself as your mind wanted to focus on other things. Like the way Peter was reaching for your breasts. He took one in each hand and squeezed them. 

“You've touched them before.” You commented.

He always acted as if it was the first and last time he'd ever touch your breasts.

Your comment made him grin. “Yeah, I have.” He said happily. He didn't stop his squeezing and playing with your chest. It was more for his own satisfaction than your pleasure. You enjoyed the attention and were flattered nonetheless.

Before the two of you had sex for the first time there had been many a makeout where Peter just played with your breasts with his hands and mouth. That had been a fun period of time. He'd been still shy about initiating touch in case you didn't want it, and appeared awestruck that you even allowed him to brush a hand against the side of your clothed breasts when you cuddled. And when you lifted your shirt for the first time the look on his face had been so satisfying. 

He tweaked your nipples and you grinded delicately down on him. It was more of a slow squirm than a grind considering how you weren't seated quite fully on him and couldn't jerk around harshly. You could feel him tilting his hips, trying to get anything more. Swiftly you rose and sank down, faster than the first time with a wet sound. Peter gasped. 

His eyelids fluttered. He looked up at you with red parted lips. “Fuck me.”

You flushed all the way up your chest. “Yes.”

There was the sound of both of you breathing and the wet sound of your movement. Peter twitched and contorted his face, biting at his lip. He said 'fuck' and 'yes' under his breath interchangeably. At one point he squeezed his eyes shut and started to breath unevenly.

A little startled and fuzzy in the head you tried to slow down. You leaned forward and put weight on your hands on either side of his shoulders. 

“What's wrong?” You asked him and tenderly brushed your thumb against his shoulder.

“C-can't finish yet.” He said as way of explanation. 

You continue to ride him at a steady pace. It was slower than usual-that wasn't exactly a feat considering your track record- but that just made your physical reconnection after all the time celibate from each other more intense.

“Oh, Peter.” It came out high pitched. You felt like you were overheating. Awareness of the situation only heightened your senses and and made you twitch to the touch. It felt incredibly good though.

He let go of your hips that he'd been gripping to rub at your clit. 

“Powers?” He weakly asked permission. You bobbed your head up and down, hair swaying with your movement. Your thighs were achy from supporting all your weight. 

Peter vibrated his fingers literally. He ran it on your outer labia first then slid it onto your clit's hood. He ran his finger up and down, glancing against your clit itself only for a moment on each slide down. It was perfect. In short order your muscles clenched and your inside walls pulsated as you reached orgasm.

Peter tried to reach up and push his fingers into your mouth but he didn't make it past your teeth. He'd been trying to get you to make noise since the first time you came in front of him. Out of long time habit you have always been completely silent though, the only indication of your reaching climax your body's small convulsions and your brows drawing as you bite your lip.

Through blissed out haze you heard a whimper below. You got to watch as Peter finally let go and came, making a choked sound from his throat. God, his hair really did look terrible. But his face was so sweet, lax and splotched red. He had the cutest cheeks and eyes. And mouth. It was fair to say you adored him. 

You gasped suddenly and pulled off of him. In your bliss you'd sat on him without meaning to; your weight resting on him. Your hand fluttered over him for a moment. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” You asked worried. 

“Hm?” He blinked at you lazily and then gave you a tired thumbs up. 

You broke down into laughter and buried your head in the sheets next to his shoulder. Peter tucked his head against you and sighed dreamily as you laughed. You could tell he was smiling against you. 

“I think... I'm gonna rest just a little more.” He said when your laughter died down. 

“Okay.” You said “Me, too.” 

You smiled at each other and settled down, cuddling into each other blissfully.


End file.
